


Chocolate

by Pimento



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blindfolds, Chocolate, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dom Dean, Dom Dean Winchester, Handcuffs, Human Castiel, M/M, PWP, Sub Castiel, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6075489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pimento/pseuds/Pimento
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is introducing 'human' Cas to the intricate delights of a chocolate fountain...</p><p>Feedback and suggestions welcome, I have no idea where it's going...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate

Cas stared with fascination at the cascading flow, a rich, thick, brown bubble undulating and flowing down into a deep pool, it was like magic, the fluid acted in slow motion, and seemed alive. He could smell it, sweet and rich, he opened his mouth slightly and drew a breath across his tongue. Taste had been such a revelation to his human tongue. As an Angel it was all just molecules, but with a human response to his taste buds, the world was full of flavour. At first he had been so sensitive that he could taste the air, but gradually the bombardment of his senses was settling down. But, yes, he could taste the smell of chocolate, its sweetness making his mouth water. He leant forwards slightly in his chair, desperate for more.

Humans had amazing capacity and inventiveness for playing with their senses. He flinched slightly at the memory of his first brush with chillies. Dean had been making burritos, systematically chopping vegetables with simple precision, the way he did so many things. He had passed the sharp knife to Castiel without speaking, letting him follow his lead, slicing the tiny red and green fruits into slender slithers and dropping them into the pan. What he hadn’t bothered to do was warn him about washing his hands. He frowned at the memory of Dean’s roar of laughter as he screamed in the bathroom and the indignity of sitting in the bath tub as Dean poured milk over his genitalia all the time laughing at him, while his own face streamed with tears.

But this, this was magnificent, a fountain, an actual fountain, of chocolate. He wanted to touch it. To let the chocolate run through his fingers. He was fairly certain this was a test of obedience. He licked his lips and wondered whether he could get away with just the tip of one finger, before Dean came back from the kitchen. He paused, listening carefully for sounds of movement, he lifted himself from the chair, arm outstretched.

“Castiel,” the voice had a playful warning note to it, and he felt the prickle of the hairs on the back of his neck. His full name meant he was in trouble. “What ya doing, Cas?”

“Erm… looking?” 

“You look with your eyes, Cas, not your fingers.” He loved and hated in equal measure when Dean talked to him with the quiet disinterested tone he reserved for naughty children and monsters he was about to kill. He turned his head slowly, bright blue eyes gazing up under a smoothly innocent looking brow, frozen in place with his outstretched fingers inches away from the waving undulations of chocolate. Dean stood in the doorway, with the merest hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Sit.” It was an order not a request, and Cas complied instantly.

Dean was watching him now, and he began to fidget, squirming as he always did, when the unwavering green eyes stared at him, scrutinising him. He felt naked without his trenchcoat, and pulled at the neck of the borrowed t-shirt, where normally he would fiddle with his tie or run his fingers inside the crisp white collar of his shirt. He glanced briefly at Dean’s face and caught the amused expression, before Dean hastily rearranged his features into a sterner, unsmiling pose. The bastard knew just how to push his buttons, and did. Frequently.

“Close your eyes, Cas.” The cloth Dean wrapped around his head and tied in a big loose knot was soft and warm. He flinched slightly, and his breath shortened. 

“Relax Cas, it’s just so you can focus on the taste and the smell.”

“Thank you, Dean.” It sounded awkward even to his own ears, but how else could he show appreciation for the understanding of just how overwhelming and confusing the world was now. 

He could feel the heat of Dean’s body, smell his odour, hear his movements, as he walked to the table. He heard the gentle scratch of the tray as Dean placed it on the table and the quiet metallic clink that must be a knife.

Dean was stood in front of him now, he started slightly as Dean gripped his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his head. The makeshift blindfold lifted temporarily over one eye, he caught a brief glimpse of Dean’s fingers curled around a set of handcuffs, before he screwed his eyes shut. Hence, the cold metal on his wrists, which tightened swiftly, just short of biting was not a surprise, but the sound of the ratchet as they closed was still harsh to his ears. He let his own fingers tangle briefly with Dean’s hooking them and gripping just slightly, enjoying the contact.

He sat patiently, as Dean tugged the blindfold back down, and pushed him gently by his shoulders back into the chair. It was strange, he was so vulnerable now he was human, and yet with Dean here, he felt safe, relaxed. He was enjoying the myriad of new sensations.

A bobbly surface, stroked along his lips, catching on the rough skin, he breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring, and the fresh, sharp smell of strawberry flooded his senses. His lips parted and he tried to take a bite only to feel it withdrawn. “Na-uh,” Dean whispered, hot breath tickling his ears. “Patience.”

The pressure on his lips returned and this time he smelt the chocolate, as it dribbled down his chin. “Ok, open,” he gobbled greedily, the flavours clashed, both sweet, but different. One hot, one cold, contrasting and exploding across his tongue, he gulped and swallowed, lunging forward slightly to catch Dean’s fingers, he sucked and licked at the chocolate.

He heard the sharp intake of breath as Dean tried to hide his laughter, “whoa, there, Debbie does the bunker.” Cas licked his lips and the edge of his chin, aware that the chocolate was dripping onto his chest and lap. “You want more?”

He nodded emphatically, “Yes. More.” He paused before adding. “Please.” 

Dean chuckled, he must be kneeling now. Cas occasionally felt the brush of Dean’s torso against his knee as he relentlessly teased Cas drawing the strawberries across his cheeks or pulling them away just as he tried to bite into them. His chest was itching where the older splashes were beginning to dry. He leant forward anticipating the next strawberry, only this time he smelt the warm heat of Dean’s body and felt the tickle of his breath on his face. He bit into the strawberry, feeling the brush of soft lips against his own, as he closed them. Cas sighed into the gentle exploration of a strawberry flavoured kiss.

A firm hand gripped his thigh just above the knee, and he shivered as strong fingers wove into his hair, massaging the back of his neck, pulling him closer and holding him tight. He edged forward on the chair, trying to press himself against Dean, only to feel the fingers in his hair grip and pull. 

****************************************************************************************************************************

Who knew that Castiel, former Angel of the Lord, could be such a wanton slut! 

It had taken massive effort not to laugh as Cas had greedily sucked his fingers. Now here he was cuffed and blindfolded, smothered in chocolate, undone and desperate, trying to push himself against Dean’s body. 

Dean had to admit, now that he had overcome his denial of the attraction and accepted that his friendship with Cas was more than a merely brotherly bond, he was much happier. He loved Cas, he’d always known he loved him, admitting that the love could be physical had been a huge leap, but he could not, would not regret it, especially at moments like this. Dean smirked and tightened his grip in the dark hair, noting with interest the little groan the tug elicited.

He drew back from the kiss, let his lips brush against Cas’ earlobe as he whispered, “do you like that, Castiel? Do you like my hand in your hair? Controlling you?” A little whimper was his only answer. He kissed Cas again, sucking the chocolate covered lower lip, and nipping it gently between his teeth as he pulled back.


End file.
